


First Dance

by skargasm



Series: Slash the Drabble [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:48:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23801095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skargasm/pseuds/skargasm
Summary: Peter and Stiles surprised everyone with their first dance.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Slash the Drabble [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1633054
Comments: 10
Kudos: 160
Collections: Ficlets: Stories from 100 to 1000 words





	First Dance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DarkJediQueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkJediQueen/gifts).



Peter chose the song and, of course, it had a double meaning. Stiles didn’t mind because it was a beautiful song – “Slave to Love” by Bryan Ferry – although he did have to look it up because it was a little before his time. He didn’t mention that to Peter – he could occasionally get touchy about the age gap.

They’d kept the dance lessons a secret from everyone – Stiles because he didn't want to have to put up with the teasing, and Peter because – well, Peter. When they took to the floor for their first duet as a married couple, no one was expecting much – maybe them shuffling around in a slow circle. Or, worse still, Stiles flailing around whilst Peter tried to restrain him – not that it would be the first time!

Instead, their guests were treated to a sensual, seductive rumba, swaying hips, bodies so in sync they moved like one, intense eye contact. Okay, just plain old eye fucking but _classy_ eye fucking. Stiles caught Erica staring open-mouthed at their graceful movements; there were quite a few looks of admiration; Malia looked – _confused_ – but then dancing probably wasn’t something coyotes indulged in and she had only been _mainly_ human for six months so it was understandable. 

“Have I told you how gorgeous you look today Mr Stilinski-Hale?” 

Stiles smiled at Peter’s teasing tone. There had been a **lot** of discussion regarding surnames: Stiles was pretty much the last remaining Stilinski and didn’t want to relinquish the surname entirely; Peter was a Hale of the Beacon Hills Hales and giving up the name was unthinkable. So, Stiles hyphenated and avoided a lot of unnecessary grief.

“Why, no, Mr Hale, I don’t believe you have.”

“Let me take this opportunity – you look – _edible_.”

“Careful with the flashing eyes – some of our guests don’t know about the supernatural.” 

“Well if they don’t, they’re supremely unobservant – in fact, possibly the most unobservant people on the planet and as such, they won’t notice my eyes.”

“What an excellent point you make, husband.”

“I’m glad you think so – husband.” They shared a smug grin as Peter spun them in a complicated series of turns. “Stiles – may I be completely honest with you?”

Stiles frowned, wondering at the suddenly serious tone. 

“Hopefully, always. Why – what’s the matter?”

“However much I adore our friends, family and Pack, I would _really_ like to drag you away and fuck you senseless right about now.” Peter’s statement, uttered in such a sincere yet casual tone made Stiles stumble slightly and he scowled at his husband.

“That’s astoundingly uncouth of you to say you know,” he admonished, finding his place rapidly and hoping no one had noticed the slip. 

“Indeed. But I note that you didn’t _actually_ say no.” Peter raised his brow and Stiles caved. 

“Well – “

“Well?”

None of the guests was even remotely surprised when mid-dance, the newly married couple disappeared – it was Stiles and Peter, after all, and they were known to be a _very_ affectionate couple!

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> My muse appears to be in quarantine - I haven't written a thing since the end of Love, Creeper Wolf. This is a little bit of nothing that popped into my head when I was listening to some music - hopefully it's the boot up the butt my muse needs!
> 
> * * *


End file.
